But they don’t bother me as much as the empty faces
the vacuous listening snapping assembly

I wonder if they’ve ever had a one night stand
if that sort of thing’s common these days

I walked out on poetry night again

I can’t explain anything to these people
I know they won’t understand

I’m tired and hungry and not in a mood
to say why I don’t ever get lonely:

Because of me
Because sex doesn’t matter
Because two years ago my therapist said
that there must be other smart people out there
but that I might not want to go around saying that
Because I will be waiting a while

I don’t care about waiting;
it isn’t lonely, it’s annoying

Because if there was just one dumb cardboard person
sitting in the passenger seat to catch my coffee
when it went smashing into the dash
or to lug the damn groceries up the stairs

I could pay them in quarters
in the slots on their back
and never recite any poetry

What’s loneliness anyway? Some nights, most days, conformity to the opinion of the masses is just a little on the pale side in simple terms. Better words, more concise than a simple broad fluted adjective exist. Language, and life’s states don’t need to be a democracy.